


Hell on earth

by SadnessUponUs



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Real Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-16 20:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadnessUponUs/pseuds/SadnessUponUs
Summary: What if Henry Beauchamp lived and he was an alcoholic? How would that change and influence Claire's life? A very different Jamie and Claire story set in real life with its desperation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not talented as other Outlander fanfic writers. Plus, English isn't my native language so I'm sure there will be many, many, many errors. However, I think writing will help my growing anxiety. Any comment is welcome :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr - https://sadnessuponus.tumblr.com/

 

That sound. It was that sound again. The sound of desperation and broken dreams. The sound of her father cursing in the yard. Her heart sank, it was happening again. She went outside and saw what she used to always see - her father vomiting in the grass and some stranger holding him up. Yes, it was a normal Sunday after all.

Claire stayed motionless waiting nothing to happen. The stranger couldn’t hold her father anymore and left him fall in the grass…in his vomit. He finally noticed her:

“Lass, I believe that is yer father, aye? We were together at the pub and he indulged a bit too much. Some guy told me where he lived and I thought I should bring him home…” At this point he was blabbering the same things all people did - that he was sure he father will be OK, that it was Sunday after all, there was nothing wrong with a drink or two… She wasn’t listening, she didn’t dare look the stranger in the eyes, she focused on his chest instead. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t be embarrassed anymore. But yet again she was. She went to her father and knelt in the grass:

“Dad, come on, let’s get inside. We’ll clean you up and you’ll have a nap” she whispered with teary eyes. After some puffing and cursing she managed to get her father up. The stranger rushed to help, but she stopped him:

“Thank you for your help, I’ll take care for the rest. You can go” she said with cold voice, colder than she intended. “I work at the bakery on the corner from Monday till Friday. I don’t have money to give you, but if you come tomorrow morning there might be some bun for you” she forced a smile, but still didn’t meet his eyes. “I love buns, I’ll come” he smiled and added weakly “it isn’t yer fault, lass. It never is”.

“Yeah, thanks” she dismissed his words. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, she was feeling bad enough. Then she helped her father and they disappeared into the house. “I’m Jamie by the way” he yelled after her. But she was gone.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't getting easier for the characters. You can find me on tumblr - https://sadnessuponus.tumblr.com/

Jamie was lying restless in his bed. The smell of burnt flesh was driving him nuts. That smell again…He hadn’t slept properly for 3 years since the worst night of his life – of anybody’s life really.

 

**Three years ago**

He was living in Lallybroch with his family – his father Brian, mother Ellen, older brother William and sister Janet. After he graduated from high school his father gave him a choice – to go to university or to stay at the farm working with the rest of the family. Jamie was torn between his desire to study literature or journalism – anything with words – and the duty to his family. In the end he stayed at home. But after only two years of hard work for 14 /16 hours a day the 20-year- old Jamie was becoming more and more tired and irritated at his situation. Truth was he was too scared to persuade his dreams and because of that he chose the safe path and stayed at Lallybroch. Being too proud to admit to his father his desire to leave, Jamie found a way to ease the pressure – by sleeping with every girl over 18 he laid his eyes on. He was selfish with the girls; he slept with them one or two times, never cared about their pleasure. People were beginning to talk about the Fraser lad who was sleeping around. Whispers and rumours were floating but nobody dared to speak to the formidable Brian. But he knew, how could he not? So one particular evening he decided to talk to his stubborn idiot son:

“Look, Jamie. I know what’s going on, people talk…” Father and son were sitting on the porch after another exhausting day.

“And what are they talking about?” Jamie asked not really caring about the answer.

“That you’re ravishing the local girls” Brian whispered.

“Ravishing???? It is always consensual. I’d never force myself to a woman!” Jamie responded furiously.

“You know what I mean. You’re…having carnal knowledge of the girls and then you dump them. That’s not what Frasers do” Brian was getting angry.

“Carnal knowledge. Are we living in the 18th century?” Jamie was laughing at his father. Brian couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up, grabbed Jamie by the shoulders and shook him violently. Jamie not being used to such demeanor from his father, was shocked.

“Listen to me very carefully, lad. Cut the crap, pull yourself together and make a decision already. Go to university or stay here and behave yourself. You’re making a fool of yourself. I didn’t force you to stay here. Be a man and grow up” Brian said evenly.

“And become a **_man_ ** like you? Ha…” Jamie smile was wiped up from his face by his father’s hard slap.

“ I hate you!!!” Jamie screamed and ran off to the fields.

Two hours later much calmer he came back to the house. Everybody had gone to bed and it was unnaturally quiet. Jamie went to the kitchen, turned the oven on and reheated some dinner leftovers. He ate slowly, drank 2-3 glasses of whiskey and fell asleep on the couch in the living room.

The sirens woke him up several hours later . All he could see was smoke; all he could hear was screams. There was a huge fire in the house, he rushed off to the second floor to find his family, but he was pulled out by the firefighters.

One painful hour later he was sitting on the ground in front of four burnt unrecognizable bodies. Actually, four and a half. His mother got miraculously pregnant at 45 for everybody’s amusement.

Jamie was numb, desperation and pain were crawling in his veins as if the blood had left his body in vain attempt to revive his family. But they were gone, the house was gone, his life was gone and the old Jamie Fraser was gone.

The insurance company’s investigation went for 3 months. Of course they tried to figure out the way not to pay. In the end it was decided that the cause of the fire was short-circuit…from the oven. Jamie was given a large sum of money. Most of it he donated to local hospitals and charities. He paid for five beautiful tombstones. On the last one was engraved “Baby Fraser 2015 – eternity”.

The funeral was excruciating. Jamie didn’t have tears to cry, but Ian – his sister’s boyfriend – was crying for both of them. His best friend fell to the ground in front of Janet’s coffin and sobbed until Jamie pulled him out and brought him home.

Jamie was torn by grief and guilt. He decided to leave for good.

 

**Present day**

 

The bed was too narrow for him. The world was too small for him. And it was going to be this way until…

“Did I turn the oven off?” Jamie whispered in the dark. For three years that question had been torturing him. Deep inside he knew he had killed his family and he was going to live in this hell on earth till the rest of his life.

* * *

 

The morning just wouldn’t come. Jamie stubbornly was trying to remember all the things he’d done that night:

“I turned the oven, reheated the food…then I got a text from Ian. Then what…fucking idiot” he screamed and cried. Just the usual night in Jamie Fraser’s life. Not only the desperation was crawling back in, the hunger was doing it as well.

“Maybe I should order some Chinese or…” It came back to him – the buns. The lass invited him to the bakery. There was something about her that made his heart tingle and yet he hadn’t seen much of her. He didn’t know what colour her eyes were because she didn’t look at his face. She was shorter than him, wearing jeans and checkered shirt two sizes too big for her. She had short curly bob that made her look like a tomboy. And Jamie was certainly interested in that tomboy. But he lied to her, he wasn’t randomly at the pub with her father. Jamie was the one refilling the glasses.

 

**12 hours earlier**

 

“Jamie lad, I know I’ve asked too much of you, but some guy has shat all over the loo and I’m kind of short off staff. Would you clean it up? I’ll take the orders” Ned asked. He was the owner of the pub where Jamie had been working for the last three months. After he left Lallybroch he was wandering around Scotland not knowing what to do with his life. After a short stay in Edinburgh and stupid affair with a married woman, Jamie decided it was time for a change. So he ended up in Glasgow moneyless and more depressed than ever. Finding a job was tough as well, nobody wanted to hire some random guy without much experience. However, Ned Gowan took the chance because three of his employees had left without warning. So Jamie was a bartender, a waiter, a cleaner and hundred other things. He didn’t mind, he preferred to have his brain occupied. Plus, Ned let him live in the room above the pub for free. It was a good deal.

“No worries, Ned, I’ll take care of it” Jamie replied and headed to the loo. Jamie had seen shit – literally and figuratively - but that toilet was something else. Good thing he was used to the smell of manure. Forty minutes later he was done with the task.

“Good job, lad. That toilet hasn’t been cleaner. Now, rest and have a glass of whiskey. It’s on the house” the owner said with a wink.

Jamie filled a glass with his favourite and started scanning the room, looking for a table. Ned nudged him in the ribs.

“Go sit with Henry. People always avoid him and he drinks alone. Not a good look for a pub” Ned said professionally. Jamie saw a man in his 40s talking to himself, bottle of vodka in front of him. His hair was a mess, his clothes dirty. He looked awful.

“Is that the local wino?” Jamie asked.

“Life is much more complicated that, son. Henry and his family used to own a grocery store for vegan and organic food. It was good business, but then the recession hit them hard. He lost everything and his wife left him. Come on, go to him” Ned persuaded.

Reluctantly Jamie approached the table and cleared his throat.

“Um, may I sit here?” he asked and waited for reaction. Henry didn’t move, but Jamie decided to sit anyway.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it” God, that was the worst idea ever, Jamie thought.

“It must be really nice to have a son, right boy?” Henry asked out of nowhere. Not waiting for Jamie’s response he continued:

“I have a daughter, stupid little bitch she is. “Don’t drink, daddy, everything will be OK” blah, blah. She just doesn’t shut up…ever. If I had a lad like you, I might have saved my business”. Do you want to be my son?” Henry started laughing hysterically. Jamie was confused to put it mildly. “I’m going to kill Ned” he said to himself.

“How old is your lass?” Jamie was trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, somewhere between 15 and 19. I don’t really keep track. You wouldn’t guess she’s a girl. She dresses like a boy, but she isn’t one. She’ll never be the son I’ve always wanted. But I can’t get rid of her, yet. She works, you know and she gives me money. Add it to my pension and I have a decent income” what a “charming” person Jamie thought.

“The pension, I mean are you sick?” Jamie asked. Henry was way too young to be a pensioner.

“I have some heart problems. The doctors said I shouldn’t drink. Fuck them, that’s all I have now after the whore left me” he said through his teeth and then collapsed on the table.

Jamie was left speechless, not knowing what to do.

“Lad, would you take Henry home? You know…the customers might feel uncomfortable. He lives in the big grey house two blocks from here. You can’t miss it” Ned said from the bar.

Jamie really didn’t want to do it, but he had no choice. He picked up Henry from the table and they headed to his house “supporting” each other.

“Yes, Jamie lad, you always find trouble, don’t you” Jamie murmured wondering what the hell he was going to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The subject of alcoholism might be tough for some people. It's not that bad in this chapter, but you've been warned :)

“Come on, dad, help me out a bit” Claire said to her semi-conscious father while trying to drag him to his bed. She had to admit she was getting better at it and her arms muscles were impressive as well.  Or he was just thinner than before.

“Naturally you’d lose weight if your diet contains only vodka and a piece of cheese couple times a week” she murmured.  She’d been doing those “exercises” for the last seven years. Since the day her mother went to the store and never came back.

Just one final pull and she’d be able to drag him up the two steps that separated the living room and the rest of the house. That was the last obstacle before reaching Henry’s bedroom.

“You’re dirty again. Did you fall in the mud? I gave you clean clothes this morning. And when is this blood coming from?” she asked while wiping away blood drops from her father’s forehead. She didn’t get an answer to her question, but she wasn’t surprised. She’d been having monologues for years.  Henry wasn’t the conversational type and usually he’d speak to her only when he needed money or washing or cleaning.

Finally they reached his bedroom. She took his clothes off leaving him in his underwear and put him in bed. Claire saw a familiar puddle on the floor and she flinched.

“Of, dad, that’s a second time today” she sighed and went to get a bucket with water and a sponge to clean up the mess. She was already aware alcoholics couldn’t control their bladders or bowels. When Henry wasn’t able to reach the bathroom, he’d use his bed as one. The mattress was soaked and it smelled awful. She’d tried to clean it several times through the years, but it stank so bad she had to hurry to the toilet to throw up.

Eventually she managed to clean the urine from the floor and washed her father’s clothes. Yes, it was a wonderful Sunday she thought bitterly.

She made herself a cup of tea and sat on the bench in the yard. There was some vomit in the bushes, but she’d take care of it later in the evening. Claire was tired of her neighbours’ prying eyes so she’d usually clean when it was already dark. She was suffering from insomnia and she preferred to do the “housework” when everybody else was asleep.

Claire was afraid to sleep because she’d dream of her mother. Gorgeous curls surrounding her face, warm brown eyes watching her tenderly.

“I won’t be long. See you soon” were the last words her mother said to her. Needless to say she hadn’t come back.

“That store was probably somewhere abroad” Claire mumbled in her cup. After seven years living that hellish life Claire was pretty much numb. In the beginning she felt resentment and bitterness; she blamed her parents, herself, God, the world.

In that moment in the yard she felt emptiness. She wasn’t special – millions of children in the world had parents battling addiction. Usually, society would try to heal the addict and not the addict’s child. Those children would grow up frustrated, battered and scarred and later they would become broken adults. Claire was only a number, statistics that nobody cared about. Even her mother…

* * *

 

Nobody expected Julia and Henry marriage to end the ugly way it had.  They’d met in university in London and they had fallen madly in love. After spending couple of years in England, they’d decided to take a chance and move to Scotland. The young family had opened a store which slowly had become a real success. Later a little chubby curly baby had joined the family and life had seemed complete.

Claire didn’t remember those blissful years. She remembered only the screams, the tears, the slamming of the doors and the hatred.

After her father lost his store, he began to drink heavily. Her parents, who prior to that had been all loved up, were fighting all the time about money, about Henry’s drinking, about some men her mother was meeting. As people say  “When poverty comes in at the door, love flies out of the window”.

Every time the fight ended the same way- her father would leave the house and her mother would cry alone on the floor in her bedroom. Claire was willing to give her savings to her parents so they can pay their debts. She‘d saved a good sum of money and was thinking of buying that Barbie doll with the pink dress from the TV commercial. When she shared the idea with her mother, Julia just laughed and kissed her on the cheek.

One evening after a particular bad fight with Henry, Julia woke Clare up and told her she was going to the store.

“Can I come with you, mom? I’d like a lollypop” Claire said sleepily.

“No, you can’t, dear. Right now I have to go alone, but I promise you’ll join me later. I just want to you remember that I love you more than anything. I really tried, Claire. When you grow up you’ll understand. You will hate me and I’ll deserve it, but you should know one thing – there are times in people’s lives when they must be selfish in order to survive and stay sane. When that moment comes for you, seize it and do what you have to do” Julia said, tears falling on her cheeks, mascara smeared all over face.

“This means I have to buy the doll, right mom? Seize it” Claire giggled.

“That’s right, dear. Find the perfect doll for you and take it. You’ll probably have just one chance” Julia said quietly.  She kissed her daughter, left the big grey house and never returned.

Claire was 11 when her mother left her and she had to grow up really fast. After the initial shock and denial, she quickly understood she had to become her mother. All the cleaning, cooking, washing fell on her shoulders. And there was school, of course. Henry used his daughter as a maid, his drinking becoming worse with every passing day.

“Your cooking sucks, Claire. No matter what you do you’ll never be as good as your mother. If only you were a boy, you’d help me start the business again. But you’re useless” Henry said to the 13 – year-old Claire one day. After that ‘nice” conversation he passed out, thankfully, in his bed. Claire felt sharp pain in her tummy and went to the bathroom. There was blood everywhere and she panicked. It was Saturday and she couldn’t go to school nurse. Speaking to her father was out of question.

Claire rushed to the pharmacy hoping Mrs. Graham would help her.

“Claire, dear, good day. How can I help?” Mrs. Graham polite as always asked.

“There is blood on my panties.  I think I’m dying” Claire sobbed.

Mrs. Graham smiled knowingly:

“Oh, dear child, how old are you?” she asked.

“I’m 13, Mrs. Graham” Claire replied confused. What did her age have to do with anything? Didn’t young people die as well?

“Come here, dear. You’ve become a woman, Claire” Mrs. Graham chose the worst words possible. She then explained everything about periods to Claire, gave her some pads and sent her to the toilet to put one.

Cleaned up and much calmer Claire left the pharmacy. She was passing by Mrs. Fitz’s bakery when she saw it, the most perfect chocolate muffin. She’d given her last money for the pads so she couldn’t afford to buy it. She just stayed there watching the muffin through the shop window.

But Mrs. Fitz had seen her:

“Hello, Claire, do you like the muffins? They’re fresh and the frosting is really nice. Would you like one?” she asked cheerfully.

“I don’t have money, Mrs. Fitz. I just had my first period and I gave all my money for pads. Did you know they are quite expensive?” Claire blurted.

“Well” Mrs. Fitz was laughing “Women got the worst part of the bargain. Look, you can have the muffin. In return you can help me in the kitchen. I have to decorate 200 muffins and I can use an extra pair of hands”.

Claire agreed and since that day she’d been working in the bakery. At first she was helping with washing the dishes, some minor decorations and cleaning.  Years later she was promoted to manager. She was responsible for opening and closing the bakery, communication with suppliers and some of the actual baking. She preferred to work 7 days a week, but Mrs. Fitz was against it. So they found a middle ground. Claire worked 6 days a week and had the Sundays off.

“If you could call taking care of vomit and piss a day off. Well, at least I didn’t have to deal with shit today” Claire said to herself. When she finally managed to reach her bed it was already 1 am.

“Open the bakery; take care of the curtain above the door - I’ve been dragging this issue for weeks; deal with the flour supplier – I hate that guy; bake the buns and that’s it” Claire was making the list with chores for the Monday.

“I’m forgetting something, damn it. Well, it probably isn’t important” she said and then sleep finally overtook her.


End file.
